INSPECTOR HIGGINS HURRIES

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXXI, Issue 21782, 23 April 1934, Page 16

INSPECTOR HIGGINS HURRIES

A GRIPPING MYSTERY SERIAL 1

CHAPTER XV. 5.50 a.M. The tramp of sea boots along the deck caused him to thrust about wide-eyed searching for temporary concealment. An evil-smelling donkey engine supplied tho deficiency. He crouched behind. The footsteps passed him by, mounted heavily the iron companionway to the bridge and then stopped. A subdued muttering up above and then descending footsteps. The man at the wheel had been relieved. .. But instead of the man immediately turning into his hammock or bunk, as Inspector Higgins thought would have been the reasonable thing to do, ho stopped almost level with tho donkey engine, slowly lit a pipe, then leaned negligently over the rail at tho side. Had Higgins not seen him light his pipo and heard his footsteps ho could not have been sure there was anyone within a milo of him, for the figure was immobile. At long last, however, with a sigh of satisfaction, the man knocked the ashes from the pipo and clattered on his way. . Higgins, in his eagerness to eafe his cramped position, stood upright, then followed in the man's wake. Immediatel.v ho regretted his hurry, for ho tripped over some obstacle on the deck and fell headlong. Tho footsteps ahead stopped. L "Who's that?" a powerful voice demanded. . Higgins remained prone upon the deck, groping round for some weapon of offence or defence. His fingers gripped tho identical obstacle over which ho had fallen, a marline-spike—-possibly that self-same instrument which had smashed the hull of Foxy-faca-s stolen boat —and ho awaited tho man s return. " What's up, Charlie? " demanded a voico from the bridge. "What's all the row about? A bull-like voice from the skipper's cabin, iu irate tones, added its quota to tho inspector's uneasiness. Higgins gripped the marline-spike, reflecting that, as it had been the immediate cause of the trouble, it only right it should help to get him out of it. Further footsteps. The man Charlio was coming back to investigate. Inspector Higgins jumped to his feet and dashed aft. Charlie, handicapped by sea-boots, lumbered behind. Higgins skipped past tho door just as it was opened. Fortunately the door itself obscured him from the man who had flung it open. Higgins hurried on, his dress shoos making little sound, and reached the stern. .... He had done it now! His precipitate action in attempting to follow the man Charlie, though well-reasoned inasmuch as he wished to learn exactly where th© men were quartered, and with some nebulous idea of securing them within the cabin, had proved his undoing. A voice from the recently opened door demanded reasons in no uncertain terms. lUifus Reilly was out for trouble! , , " One of your men on the prowl. Stanmorel" he shouted accusingly. " Which one?"—in the voice of Foxy-face. So Foxy-face was called Stanmore, eli ? And a fat lot of use that was at 'the present juncture 1 "How the devil do I know? After the stuff, I'll bet!" '' Hefty! Lofty! Baker 1" Stanmoro's tones rose to a squeak. A pattering of feet, then a hurried counting of heads. "Lights! Let's have lights!" Rufus stormed to one of the crew. " But—but—" in half-hearted protest from Foxy-face—" we'll be seen." "What of it? If there's someone aboard who shouldn't be —well, we'll soon see that he isn't! There's bags of time yet." The order must have been conveyed to the engine-room, for soon a light in the bulkhead aft showed dimly as the dynamo was started and slowly gained strength. The light revealed the taffrail . . . and a thick rope hanging over the stern; Higgins dimly wondered why he hadn't seen this rope when he had searched from the dinghy, but soon discovered that it only hung a few feet over the edge. He pulled up the end, tied a knot a • few _ inches from the bottom, then lowered it once more over tho stern. He climbed over the taffrail, lowered himself down the rope and gripped the knot between his thighs, thankful for even such small easement thus afforded to the muscles of his arms. The vessel by this time was a blaze of light which was reflected on the water. A systematic search was being conducted on deck, and Higgins wondered how soon it would be before he was discovered. And what then ? His only course then would be to let go and trust himself to the tender mercies of the sea, where, assuming he were lucky enough to escape the propeller threshing below, and the bullets of the crowd above, he stood a dog's chance of getting out of the business alive. Sounds from a porthole immediately below. " Not in here!"

The slamming of an iron door . . . the turning of a key. They were taking no chances of his doubling on their tracks! " Hell's bells! We'll find him or bust! Stand by fOrrard! Let her go!" Rufus Reilly's irate voice from overhead.

A terrifying rattle which shook the entire ship, the ear-piercing shriek of protesting metal as the heavy links of the anchor chain scraped along the lip of tho hawse-pipe, a mighty splash continued rattling for a couple of seconds, then comparative silence. The ship was at anchor. Higgins gazed about him, surprised to think that they should ride at anchor in the open sea, and was agreeably startled to see twinkling lights from a shoreline a mile or so away. "Ho ran aft, you say, Charlie? Right! He's probably forrard by now. We'll start in tho fo'c'sle and work aft. All of us together. And that meaiiß you, you at tho wheel.. A fiver to the man who finds him. Come on!"

A trap? Sounded like it. Still, he was as safe' here as anywhere! Safe ? Higgins smiled grimly. If tho worst caiiio to the worst he might be able to swim ashore. An inglorious ending to an inglorious adventure that would be —but better than nothing. A tramping of feet away from the stern.

Higgins cautiously pulled himself up the rope and gazed apprehensively over tho taffrail, half expecting to bo crowned with an iron belaying-pin or similar popular nautical weapon! Yes, unbelievingly, thc.v had all gone. On the port side, revealed by a bulkhead light, was a drum, presumably containing oil, behind which a man might bo hiding. No, there was no shadow thrown upon the deck! That was all right then! Better rest his muscles whilst he may. Higgins hauled himself the remaining few feet and sat thankfully upon the extreme stern. That drum of oil now . . . the nebula of an idea ... if lie only dared! A furtive peeping down the port side —then the starboard side —round the obscuring bulkhead of what might have been the saloon. Anything was better than nothing! Higgins laid hold of the drum, rolling it as he had seen milkmen move churns, till it was almost amidships.

(COP Till GET)

, By CECIL FREEMAN GREGG Author of " The Murdered Manservant." "The Three Daggers. " The Brazen Confession^

He 'laid it on its side, checking its tendency to roll overboard by placing his marline-spike 0110 sido find tho end of a piece of rope the other, the latter to seaward. He played the coil of ropo along the deck aft and waited. It reminded him of his efforts when a boy to catch birds in a siove, waiting thus with tho end of a piece of-ropo in his hands. He had not long to wait. 1' ootstops were coming aft. He dared wait no longer. He jerked the rope away from the drum; there was a slight rumble; then a most satisfying heavy' splash as tlio cylindrical drum rolled overk°lmmediatcly tho rush of feet and a crowd stared over tlio side. " The searchlight! Quick!" A few seconds later a beam of light, played upon tho water and focussed upon a point where a few white bubbles rose to the surface of the sea, to break upon meeting tho air. Two revolver shots from tho bloodthirsty Foxy-face, then a self-satisfied chuckle from Jlufus Reilly. "That, my dear Stanmore, is that! The current hero will carry him to China-—or therabouts. Como along below!" Another chuckle. "That's why I stopped here —to tempt him!" And Inspector Higgins, thankful for his escapo, sat shivering at tho thought that lie might have essayed that swim to tho sliore. CHAPTER XVI 6.10 A.M. In complete darkness the vessel proceeded on its way. Inspector Higgins crouched in the stern, knew by the shore-lights on the starboard beam that tho vessel was hugging the coast and proceeding southwards toward tho mouth of the Thames—or perhaps on to Belgium or France. He was anxious to learn the name of tho ship, but dared not flash his faithful torch on tho various lifebuoys, the wliito paint of which showed up in the darkness. More to pass the time than for any otlior real reason, tho inspector, having suddenly thought that most vessels have their names on both tho stern and tho bow, and that in all probability tho name would be in raised letters fixed to the hull, once more lot himself over tho stern to investigate. Much groping in the dark before his fingers encountered an undoubted ■ D about a foot long. Then a couple of feet away an R—and the other side aY. YDR suggested something either Welsh or foreign; foreign suggested Russian; and Russian suggested Bolshevists —tho standby of half the Society of Writers, reflected Higgins as he groped still further. The fact that eventually he made out tho entire name to be Daydream rather discounted the Bolshio business. Higgins calculated that, at a rough estimate, there would be about fortythree Daydreams in Lloyd's Register! It would entail quite a little work fo>* the nautical-minded men of tho Yard to trace the real one! Still, the movements of most ships were known, and Higgins himself could give a fair description from which an expert could calculate tho probable tonnage, and thus weed out many vessels with the same cognomen. Then, without warning, out of the darkness half a mile away tho beam of a powerful searchlight played for a few seconds on tho stern of the _ vessel, revealing Inspector Higgins sitting disconsolately on the taffrail with his legs dangling over the stern, and then slowly swept over the ship. A moment later it was switched off. v Immediately afterwards there was tho sound of hurried footsteps from the captain's cabin to tlio bridge. Inspector Higgins crouched at the stern, dimly wondered what was up; then, for safety's sake, he once more sought the knotted rope and clambered over the side.

A hail from over tho water, and again the searchlight came into play. "Ahoy, there! Who are youP And where bound?"

" Snapdragon! Bound for Cherbourg —in ballast!" Rufus Reilly's voice, magnified by megaphone, seemed amazingly powerful to Higgins in the stern. " Who are you?" " Destroyer —tho Throstle. Stand by! I'm sending a whaler aboard!" A hurried whisper on the bridge, then the threshing of the screw eased and finally stopped. Heilly had obviously decided to bluff tho thing out. In any case, he could scarcely hope to como out best in a struggle with a destroyer! And the very assurance of his tones seemed to suggest that his papers would bo found in order —though how he could reconcile Snapdragon with Daydream the inspector could not imagine. He released hold of tho rope and fell into the* water with a faint splash—far removed from that mado by tho drum of oil —and with long, powerful, sweeping strokes he struck out in the darkness. A ship's whaler, not unlike tho abandoned dinghy, passed him and he let it go. He had no wish to be rescued and taken back to the ship with the whaler's crew . . . and as yet he was not at all sure that the challenging vessel really was a destroyer! A huge bulk outlined against the sky. Four funnels, masts fore and aft, gun on the fo'c'sle, torpedo tubes abaft the beam . . . Yes, it was a destroyer right enough. Inspector Higgins emitted a faint hail. An engaging young gentleman in peak cap was leaning over the rail, silhouetted by the light from tho wardroom door, and with his attention concentrated on the whaler, which had just reached the other vessel. He gave a slight start, then peered down at the inspector. He . ran slightly _ forrard and then called up to the bridge: " Guy in the ditch, sirl" " In difficulties?" " Apparently not, sir." " H'm." Inspector Higgins wearily climbed the short ladder of rope and slats near the stern to find himself confronted by a youth with two gold-braided rings round his cuffs. "And who the hell are you?" the youth demanded, slightly lacking in that courtesy for which tho Royal Navy is justly proud. Inspector Higgins replied in kind. Five minutes later he was esconced with Lieutenant-Commander John Nasmythe, R.N., in the wardroom drinking with infinite relish the largest whisky and soda he had ever seen in his life- " I'm afraid I've no proof of my identity," ho apologised. (To bo continued daily)